Ben, if you get pee in my brand-new car, I am going to cut your balls off."
Still peeing, Ben looks over at me smirking. "You´re gonna need a hell of a big knife, bro.
Tags: friendship philosophy mystery road-trip young-adults dissapearence
He tugged my zipper down like he was unveiling a gift, spreading my pants open. “Yeah. There it is. You have a nice fat dick. I would have never guessed it."
“I’m Italian,” I said inanely.
Children are the closest we have to wisdom, and they become adults the moment that final drop of everything mysterious is strained from them.
Simon Van BooyTags: wisdom children childhood adulthood mystery
Oh how I've missed you, Holmes.
Arthur Conan DoyleTags: sherlock-holmes mystery watson
Rene Caron takes my breath away!
Teresa LynnTags: romance mystery suspense detective
This land, although not my native land,
Will be remembered forever.
And the sea's lightly iced,
Unsalty water.
The sand on the bottom is whiter than chalk,
The air is heady, like wine,
And the rosy body of the pines
Is naked in the sunset hour.
And the sunset itself on such waves of ether
That I just can't comprehend
Whether it is the end of the day, the end of the world,
Or the mystery of mysteries in me again.
Tags: home mystery sunset finland not-home
The real reason we have faces," Margot Lassiter observes, "is to hold back what we're thinking from the world.
Eli GottliebLove is the biggest mystery of the universe. But why try to solve it, when one simply view it for what it is and marvel at the wonders and strangeness it brings?
Arnold ArreStars, too, were time travelers. How many of those ancient points of light were the last echoes of suns now dead? How many had been born but their light not yet come this far? If all the suns but ours collapsed tonight, how many lifetimes would it take us to realize we were alone? I had always known the sky was full of mysteries—but not until now had I realized how full of them the earth was.
Ransom RiggsTags: stars earth mystery thought-provoking
Cruelty is a mystery, and the waste of pain. But if we describe a world to compass these things, a world that is a long, brute game, then we bump against another mystery: the inrush of power and light…unless all ages and races of men have been deluded by the same mass hypnotist (who?), there seems to be such a thing as beauty, a grace wholly gratuitous…we don’t know what’s going on here. If these tremendous events are random combinations of matter run amok, the yield of millions of monkeys at millions of typewriters, then what is it in us, hammered out of those same typewriters, that they ignite? We must somehow take a wider view, look at the whole landscape, really see it, and describe what’s going on here. Then we can at least wail the right question into the swaddling band of darkness, or, if it comes to that, choir the proper praise.
Annie DillardTags: spirituality mystery mysticism landscape beauty-in-nature
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